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Z’s ready to go

I’m clearly looking forward to this holiday very much – my bag was packed by early yesterday afternoon and we’re not leaving until after lunch. I’ve just got a few odd things to do – drop some papers off at the school, post a letter, fill in another form and send it off (this is down as my job to leave if I run out of time, there always has to be one*), water the greenhouses and eat the last things in the fridge for lunch, which is a piece of smoked mackerel and some pineapple.

My sister Wink came up for a couple of nights to see young Rufus. I bought monkfish fillets and samphire from Paul the Fish for dinner, but then Wink and Weeza decided we should all get together in the evening, which was a splendid idea. So I rustled up some goujons from the fish, put the samphire back in the fridge as it wasn’t going to stretch to five, picked up some duck fillets and meringues I happened to have to hand, and we went on over after we’d visited Ro, Dora and Rufus. He is adorable (the baby, that is) but I’ve rarely seen him with his eyes open yet, he sleeps soundly.

Weeza and Phil recently had a new kitchen fitted and I cooked dinner on their new induction hob. It’s very good indeed and a beautifully planned kitchen – having lived in the house for two and a half years, she knew exactly what she wanted. Usually, cooking in someone else’s kitchen is a bit of a learning curve, but this seemed quite instinctive. So we had the goujons first, then stir-fried duck, then strawberries, meringues and crème frâiche. It was a happy and relaxed evening, just lovely. LT is very much part of the family, everyone says so.

Back in the days when the Sage and I used to go away together (he liked it best here, latterly, and I had to holiday without him), we could never just ask one person to look after things at home. We had to have a house/dog sitter (when my mother was alive, this was also a grandma sitter), a greenhouse carer and a chicken feeder. Now, Roses takes care of cats, chickens and the house and Wince the gardener looks after the garden. We’ve never left the house empty, Russell never minded at our old house but was far too protective of this one, so I’ve followed his lead.

Once we’re back, we’ll finalise arrangements for the blog party. I just need to confirm who’s wanting to stay over, so that we can rustle up enough beds. And possibly negotiate who’s going to sleep on the sofa…

The Unobservant Eye of Z

Dramatis personae:
My husband, Lovely Tim or LT for short (though he is actually tall).
My late husband, the Sage, aka Russell.
My children: Dearest daughter Weeza, who has London Ways, is married to Phil. Their daughter is Zerlina Buttercup and their son is Augustus Bufo. Elder son - Al X, is married to Dilly. Their children are Squiffany Virgilia, Maximus Pugsley and Hadrian Swallow. Younger son - Ro married to Dora and their two-year-old is Rufus Russell.
Big Sister: Wink. She lives in Wiltshire, 230 miles away, but we're much closer than that.
We live with our cat Eloise, a black tortoiseshell half-Ragdoll.
Bantams live in the garden and cats live in the barns but we feed them and they have ambitions to be pets too. In addition, cows come to visit in the summer. Mostly, they stay in the fields. None of them has got a hoof in the door yet.
There is an annexe to the house, where Roses lives and her beloved, Lawrence, spends a lot of time there. Her son, Boy, lives there too.

Z’s blogroll

Updating takes too much memory, sorry - but then I'm not very young any more, so am hanging on to the memory I've got. Please don't look for any significance in the order - I'm not drunk but I am disorderly.

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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.

Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?